Swallowed prayers
Faith abandoned at the station
I step off the train at its final stop
And find my chest hollow
No shadows soft enough
To cradle a lie
Update: The proof is here.
The Guardian Newspaper has the article today about the researchers who have now proven that the toxic chemicals from the E Palestine Train Derailment reached 16 States! They proved it with samples of snow and rain dispersal. I have been saying all along that I got sick from the snow and my dog too. My dog later died in a year from the toxin exposure.
Now it is reported in The Hill and ABC news. Breaking news.
Heidi
Obsessed missing engagement
Containment process derailment
Confused enlightenment
Embodiment confession
Google Maps guidance
Translucent misguided
Placed in a New Direction
~~Analytical Denial
6/17/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2024
The government department of defense authorized a burn
of toxic chemicals from East Palestine train derailment
This created phosgene, Dioxins and deadly chemicals combined
This all traveled with weather systems and proven with testing
Many times, I speak of this because it changed my life
My dog was sick, but now close to death in a year's time
Many people are sick and wildlife with nature killed
Let me repeat, the government did this crime against humanity!
Biden does not care, the department of defense doesn't care...
The EPA is corrupt and this is the worst chenical attack in US history
Heidi Sands
4/27/24
(C)opyright
* Just a note to mention that I posted a blog regarding the final results of testing for toxins from the Ohio Train Derailment that I have been writing about.
They found numerous chemicals including up to 20 dioxins in the soil here and matches to the chemicals that were on the train in the Ohio Derailment. More analysis is being done before it may be included in their news updates on the news.
I knew it had sickened me here with the snow March 1st and all the wildlife changes etc, but the amount of chemicals is shocking.
A lot to figure out now. Dioxins are the worst you can find and cannot be broken down or removed. My old realtor says the property cannot be sold as usual due to all the serious toxins.
The phenol benzene that was detected on my tree also causes stomach and esophagus issues, low red cell count, all that I have now.
The dioxins cause skin lesions and I am dealing with those with infection now too. The health issues go fast and what is happening in nature with the trees lately is so fast too.
I am working hard at lots of leads for this situation. Thank you to those bearing with it and supporting my poetry even when my muse is gone.
It was not a weather event,
there were no celebrities involved,
besides all our efforts were bent on saving the planet
from global change,
the environment; what's that?
No one mentioned the derailment.
No one knew about the 'controlled' burn,
the explosion, the toxic clouds,
the dead fish in the creek,
the consequences -
all the ticking timebombs.
No one thought to ask:
Hey guys are you okay?
Crickets chirped on.
The pale faced young damsel
By evening turned into a blushing bride
Her cheeks made red with rouge
And her lips glossed in cherry red
But the makeup artist, before
Seeing the magic of his deft touch
By some sudden mental derailment
In a bid at self immolation,
Set fire to himself
Badly burned by the inferno
He plunged into the waters below
One more attempt at suicide?
Or a frantic attempt to save himself,
From an act, he impulsively rushed into?
Yet another question remains
‘Can flames turn him to ashes?’
Or water, drown his resilience?
July. 15.2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Poetry Contest
When all that spanned the void were landline phones,
AM/FM, network broadcasts, and, of course, the US Mail,
We might have often thought ourselves especially alone,
But we never had to fear the threat of Facebook jail.
Now it’s “likes,” and “shares,” and “memes,” and “tropes;”
Everyone must learn the ropes,
But someone’s always changing the rules of the game.
Today and tomorrow are never the same.
The climate seems firmly determined to change.
Even glaciers are getting impatient.
There’s a solve for every problem,
And a plan for every fix.
If we’re headed for derailment,
Overlook the politics and lean into the brakes.
Excuse me for taking this seriously.
But as a survivor of several previous train wrecks,
I can attest to the literal fact
That until you walk far enough away,
You can’t possibly grasp the full extent of the damage,
Only the harm you’ve narrowly escaped.
Our world teeters on a delicate balance point,
With existence threatened by the movement
Of a butterfly’s wing.
Everyone needs to do what’s right
For the sake of everything.
Deft tiptoing of enemy feet
Trails progress of this ink;
Such that when one word
I pen I must pose to think.
Usurping hand’s derailment
Detracts my scribblings too;
So when firing thoughts stir,
I lose lucid inspiration's glue.
Weirdest passions do this quill
Assail with craftiest forces still;
Turning minutes of finest Muse
Into dullest bouts the poet rues.
And so what might this scribbler
Do to halt such thievish assaults;
Decadent schemes blunting wits,
Shoving this bard to idler's faults?
At Eighty-One I Smile
Written: by Miracle Man
1-20-2020
The thing I’ve most liked about being retired,
no longer in debilitating stress am I mired.
Obsolete is the day planner and schedules to keep,
Though retiring at 56 some considered a leap.
There were several offers made inducing me to stay,
But I had my heart set, much to others dismay.
I allowed no derailment from my goal’s fast track,
and since making my choice I haven’t looked back.
My intent was at 55 this day would come about,
now at 81 I smile, thinking of those who had doubt.
I always gave my position whatever time it required,
And after 32 years as Senior Production Manager
I retired.
In time we find light that was not so much a remembrance of character void,
or a psalm of the heterogeneous unlimited focus-
or stance of staving off the news,
in the leeway there is no set mountain,
or even the scuttled movement otherwise that allows the courteous to emote wisely,
topping out of something takes no drawbridge,
sleeping softly is no more calm than a stereo-graph printing interstellar onto a platform,
finally without the fives at nines going awry for our teller to debunk the checks we saw came late,
I hope for the favorite thing to be what doesn't unmake us-
but stays traveling down an endless moon at noon,
delicacy not,
rectitude forward-
yet always in knots,
as we know we speak the language of our derailment of pot.
To call her tall voice again,
ouch! she drove me crazy
My addiction to lonely couches
Uttering I love in remarkable sense-
In vain,
She sunk deep in her thoughts
Drawing near the deep thoughts
Against spirits of abstain
Christened by the dreams.
Bitter woes came as assassin
Persuading with smile in style-
the end destined in hearts'
As the nos got drained,
In a derailment chained-
As the slain mercy felt done
vanishing like the demons.
At what point do you realize
it’s all moving in the same direction -
in a flowing pulse that cannot be dammed, that;
collective hearts do march in rhythmic time
to a common drumbeat tolling time
upon all roads with perils and parades?
it surely wasn’t yesterday,
too busy today --
who cares about tomorrow..
At what point do you realize,
as you course through the bloodstream of civilization
with civilized -- and at times -- uncivilized blood in your veins
that the road you travel
leading you home -- and often --away from home
diminishes to a vanishing point? ..is it more than just an optical illusion?
gone are yesterdays, oh well..
live for today --
I’ll think on it tomorrow..
At what point do you realize
that all roads taken; the dirt road, the high road,
the reclusive railroad
the crossroads crossed at moments of truth —
achievement, derailment, atonement
no matter the direction -- or misdirection,
all reach the same destination?
every lost yesterday
paves a rear view highway
but today, this time, today’s not lost on you
for you now realize
how quickly tomorrow’s milestones pass
Susan Ashley
February 11, 2019
When the clouds collide it brings about a sort of electricity
Much like the same feeling as when I kiss you
We were bolts of lightning tearing apart the night sky
Disrupting the peace between love and need
Because as much as I loved you i did not need you
So when I saw you crashing against another cloud that was not mine
It was a racking sensation that lit up my body
It was not me, it was you
Loving someone the way I loved you was like a roller coaster ride
In the beginning it was simple enough but the fear of derailment was there
When the wheels no longer met the tracks you were expecting it
But you were not prepared to say goodbye
So when you saw the colors running down my face I knew you should have said goodbye
But instead of parting ways I was enveloped in your arms
And I noticed for the first time that there was no lightning in our touch
A Miss diagnosed tragic ailment,
Life strongly suggesting derailment,
Said, “Dis ease among men
Seems not all due to sin,
Let’s pray our death brings pain’s curtailment.”
Brian Johnston
August 22, 2015
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